Coming Out Alive
by annalisedream
Summary: Mal, Eva, and Astrid who dreamed of becoming one of the candidates for Governor Lukas and his team. Ever since Francis Bonnefoy became a wanted fugitive, they began to uncover the secrets of the Governor and the Red Fever that killed innocent lives, began to questions their faith and trust to others. [multiple pairing, dystopian AU] - under revamp -
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary:**

**Mal, Eva, and Astrid was selected to become candidates and work in the City, a harmonious society where everyone has their own choice to make. For them, it was starting over in their lives, building a new future for themselves. Ever since Francis Bonnefoy became a wanted fugitive, they began to uncover the secrets of the Governor and the Red Fever that killed innocent lives, began to questions their faith and trust to others. It was a test for them, to see if they can endure the upcoming warfare between the rebellion and deadly fever, they must choose and failure isn't an option. **

A little quick guide for the human names to avoid confusion (just in case)

Alistair Kirkland - Scotland

Magdalene or Malane "Mal" Rask - Isle of Man (slight variation: Malene)

Dylan Kirkland - Wales

Janet Doyle - Ireland

Aaron Kirkland - Northern Ireland

Astrid Thorborg aka. Jere - Jersey

Gérald Thorborg - Guernsey

Anika Tobias - Normandy

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><p><em>Prologue ~ Ghost of Memories<em>

A soft beep signaled the end of his blood test.

Rolling down his sleeve, Francis Bonnefoy peered over, glancing at his portscreen, as he slowly pulled out the syringe from his skin. Wincing slightly, he took a deep breath, scrolling down the results. He stopped at the end of the report, the summary.

_Negative._

Francis supposed to be relieved for the results be clear and safe from the virus. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the armchair. Letting out a soft yawn, he recounted the days since he last took the antibiotics and the virus into his bloodstream. 79 days.

The virus was just a laboratory experiment created by Mathias, to test his newly created antibiotics, a biological breakthrough. In order to run these tests it would have required a few participants. Of course he had to be picked. So far, the antibiotics is working.

Francis copied the results from the portscreen and transferred its data to Mathias, after he tapped 'Sent', he got up from the armchair, dragging his feet into the kitchen. He picked up the kettle and fill it with tap water, before he went to the glass top stove, placing the metallic colored kettle on the stove. Francis dialed the burner knob to high, then leaned against the counter, and waited. His eyes wandered to his arm, without thinking, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing a small red bruise on his skin. Francis assumed that it was just a minor bruising from the daily blood tests. A month ago, Mathias had send out a notice from his portscreen, saying that the participants should increase their blood tests amount, from two weeks to daily.

He quickly glanced at the stove, after hearing the kettle whistled shrilly, he lifted it away from the stove, setting it down on the small rubber mat. Deciding to let it cool off, Francis went back to the living room, collected the syringe and the blood test kit away to its proper place-in his medical bag.

Scratching his head gingerly, he closed up the bag, placing it right next to the bookshelf. No mood of moving it further to a safe place, he found himself slumping on the armchair, a bit lightheaded from the slight blood loss. A cold chill jolted through his veins. Have he taken more than it's needed? Francis frantically thought, propping himself up on the seat. He glanced down at his arm again, taking a good look at the red bruise. He lightly pressed his hand on the skin where the bruise is located, it felt warm under his skin. _Very warm._

His worriedness soon evaporated when there's a knock on the door, then a buzz.

Francis looked up at the door, pondering whether or not if he should open it. A knock came again, this time a rhythmic pounding. He let out a small groan, realizing who it was. He slid the lock from the door and swung it partially open.

"Should I be surprised you look depressed to see me?"

Francis forced a small smile. "The same old Scot," He said, as he opened the door wide, he raised a brow, gesturing him to come inside.

Alistair chuckled mildly, taking the invitation, entering Francis' house. "Just came back from the City," He began without a preamble.

Francis gently closed the door, locking it. He turned around, leaning against the door. He watched Alistair took off his dusty brown long coat and folded it over his arms. He gave a slight nod for him to continue. His mind slightly wandered off about what Alistair had said. The City is a much bigger establishment, contains several hundreds people and also where most of the virus experiment takes place. From where he lived, was a smaller rural area which is a couple miles away from the City. Alistair and his family had also reside here, in the same town that Francis lived in.

"I heard they're making another antidote for a virus," Alistair went on, pausing to wait for Francis to react.

"I suppose Mathias need me as a lab rat again," Francis said with a hint of despair. "You could tell him that there isn't a need for a second trial. Most of my results are clear."

Alistair shook his head no. "Actually it's the fourth trial," He corrected. "There are some difficulties for the virus. Not sure what kind of difficulties..."

Francis unhitched himself from the door, standing up straight.

"Difficulties?"

"Yes, that." Alistair replied.

Francis began to paced slowly around the room, taking a deep breath. Alistair followed his eyes at him, shifting his feet.

"Well, you're not the only one who's participating the trials," Alistair muttered under his breath, as Francis turned around. Francis blinked his eyes, trying to comprehend.

"You're saying, that you're part of this, now?" Francis asked in a slow manner, glancing at the maroon haired man. Alistair grimaced faintly, transferring his coat tot he other arm.

"Aye, along with three others." Alistair responded, meekly. "Mal, Arthur, and Basch."

Francis froze, hearing the names. Especially Arthur's.

"Are they notified at all? I mean, Arthur, have you told him?" He asked Alistair, his voice was hoarse. "I remember Lukas and Mathias reported to me, asking me to join their experiment. I'm not sure if they had told Toris and Eduard, since they also participate during the first trial."

Francis regarded Alistair's expression, a concern washed over the refined features of his face. His dark emerald eyes glinted with fear. Francis noticed that most of Alistair's usual quirky attitude had faded, replacing with brotherly concern. Francis knew that Alistair haven't told Arthur about the experiment.

"You should tell him, it's much easier that way." Francis told Alistair, showing a faint smile. Alistair glowered at him, narrowing his eyes.

"It's easier? If it is, then we won't be spending our time, stabbing ourselves with a needle and taking these fun blood samples. Yes, everyday." Alistair sneered, chuckling, huddling his arms closer to his chest. "Well, it could be easier to tell Arthur that: 'Hey, guess what? Good news, you are going to hurt yourself with these very medical like needle filled with, God know what, virus, and just send your blood to Mathias and he'll send you a antibiotics to help you get better."

Francis bit his lips, flinching slightly from Alistair's sudden attack. "I didn't mean that, it just-"

Alistair cocked his head to the side. "It just what?" Is there a reason why they want to test us like lab rats?" He went on with a bitter tone. "Do _**you**_ like being tested? Is that why you-"

Francis glanced up at him, shaking his head. "Just listen to me," He said, softly. "I know you want to protect Arthur, so I want to help. Just let him take the antibiotics and not the virus. Hopefully this will make him immune." He explained.

Alistair frowned slightly, his breathing slowed into a normal pace. "They won't hand out antibiotics to Arthur when they collected his blood sample."

Francis gave a weak smile.

"I can give out mines."

Alistair took a step back. "You can't possibly draw your blood. They will know."

"My blood is already thinned from all those blood tests, they won't even noticed. Besides, I'm thinking giving my blood to Arthur, the other two participants," He said, quickly. "And you, as well. Will four samples be enough?"

Alistair drew a thin line on his lips. "You're doing this for us?"

Francis sighed. "I'm not that kind of person who wants blood to be drawn. In fact, I'm not a a big fan when it comes to blood. I faint and fall." He mumbled, disliking the last part. "God, I'm doing this because I want to protect you, just as you protect Arthur. Just as you protect Dylan, Aaron, and Janet. I wish I could be the same, protecting my loved ones, but I don't have the power. I don't." When Alistair didn't say anything, Francis went on. "I'm afraid if I hide under the shadows for too long, I won't able to be at your side when you needed me the most. I don't want to hide anymore. It's my fault that we parted ways. I'm doing this for you, Alistair Kirkland. I want to be at your side again."

He stopped his words, gazing at him. He watched Alistair closed his eyes, breathing out a single word.

_Merci._

* * *

><p>Malene Rask kicked her black glossy shoes to the ground, hopping onto the red velvet chair. Grinning from ear to ear, she giggled jovially as she pressed her back onto the chair.<p>

"Come one, sit upright Mal." A dark blonde man came over, nearly tripping over her shoes which lay silently on the ground. She jolted upright, tilting her head up high to show her eagerness towards her relative. As he came over to her, she reached out her chubby small hands to grasp a lock of his hair around her fingers.

"Soft," She said admirably as she felt the texture of her relative's hair. The man sighed as he went to fix her teal white dress.

Mal smiled widely as she peered over his shoulders, faintly glancing at the background. She noticed a brunette hair man, standing in front of the mirror, wearing-wait, trying to tie his black bow tie. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her relative's shoulders, watching as the man with the brunette shaded hair struggled with his tie, a young woman no older than the man went besides him to quickly fixed his tie while muttering a few words in a strange but familiar language. She chuckled softly as the bow tie man complained about it's too tight. She wondered if that's her family, arguing and loving each other. Will stand together no matter to cost.

A soft tap on her shoulder broke her reverie as she glances up, groggily. Her relative ruffled her hair, a family affection. "Dreaming about the presents aren't you?" He asked with a light and playful tone. Mal nodded hard enough that her hairpin fell out of place, leaving her dark raven hair a mess. But that doesn't bother her.

"Will Astrid and Gérald come over? For Christmas?" Mal asked, looking at her relative with widen eyes. She already made a wish that her family would be together for one night.

Her relative blinked slowly, pondering on that thought. He slowly turned his head around to glanced back at the commotion. She caught him, shaking his head at the scene, before he turned around to face her.

"Yes, they will come. Arthur will bring them over soon." He answered her.

"Dylan! Come over here and help my idiotic brother!" A burst of rage rang in the air, making her cringed at the sound. She whimpered softly as Dylan turned and leave but stopped in his tracks.

"Just a minute, Janet!"

"Hey, about you go outside and play for a little while? There's still time." Dylan whispered to her, as he kneel down to her eye level. "It would be our little secret." He winked at her, drawing his index finger to his lips. Mal nodded sternly at her relative and copy his motion, pulling her finger close to her mouth. Out of nowhere, she went in and hugged Dylan tightly, a warm embrace. It will be their secret. She thought to herself, thoughtfully, as she pulled away from the embrace. She pivoted her foot, running out of the house. She could hear Dylan shouting at her, something about being safe. But she shrugged that away. She had everything she loves and trusts, why would she need to be safe?

Mal found herself at peace, taking in the breathtaking scenery from her place. She could see the lake near the mountains and where the river starts and disappears over the two valleys where the sun sets. She sat on the lush grass, her elbows propping against the earth, as she silently watched the setting sun. The skies darkened with vivid violet, greenish-blue scattered across the horizon like paint splashing across the canvas.

"Mal?" A eager voice called her name, as she turned to the direction of the voice. A young girl appeared from the tall grass, a face of relief filled the girl's eyes as she walked over to Mal.

She sat up straight, moving a spot over so that the girl could sit next to her. She smiled at her back but it soon faded when she took a closer look at the girl. Her face was troubled, her eyes was straining to push back her tears.

"Anika, what's wrong?" Mal said to her gently, as the girl sat close to her, drawing her knees near to her body. Anika shook her head, drying her tears with her blouse sleeves. She was wearing her normal outfit, she recalled, a simple dark navy blouse dress with a bracelet of the Fleur-de-lis. The girl had her hair french braided that fell across her shoulder.

Anika always been a quiet girl, always fading in the background, not wanting to be seen. Since they were young, they are similar one way or another. Along with Anika's friends, Astrid and Gérald, or the "pirate twins". She remembered that Anika mentioned briefly about her other strange relatives, something about crazy Danes and people with horned helmet. Mal doubt that's even real. But Alistair had told her about them too. So it must be true. She had asked Dylan about the same question but the answer came with a shrug. **  
><strong>

Anika sighed, pushing away her bangs nervously. "Something bad happen at home. I just got mad at my father and..." She said finally before a long pause fills in the air.

_She ran away from home._

"I-I just don't want to talk about it." She stopped at her words, her body trembling with fear and memory. Mal rested her hand on her shoulder, hoping the small gesture would reassure her. It did work partially. Anika had stopped her tears for a while now. Pressing her dress neatly, she glanced over at Isle.

"Isn't Christmas today?" She asked with a curious tone. "Should you be with your family?"

Mal bit her lips, completely forgotten about the party.

"Yes, but I-" She started, but stopped on her tracks. **She wanted to join them.** She thought to herself as she realizes. Anika never experiences a party- a family to laugh and smile with. **She haven't talk much about her side of family.** She went on thinking. Isle stood up from the ground, turning to see her friend watching her with her intensive green eyes.

Then a bloodcurdling scream howled across the sky, making them jolted with fear. It was a girl.

Mal's heart plummeted with anxiousness as she looked at Anika, her eyes widening.

A siren followed after slowing rising to its climax, covering the scream. The words from the speaker came on along with the siren. It took her a while to comprehend the message.

_"...please locked the doors, windows, and any possible opening for safety precautions. We're currently working on containing the sector due to the air contamination.."_

"Mal!"

She turned around, unable to speak as she watched Dylan came rushing from the house, grabbing her wrists, gripping it hard. She could see the anger and fierceness in his eyes, almost set to ablaze with fury. It was cold and calculating. It was almost like a stranger to her. Mal whimpered slightly, scared out of her wits, her body began to froze. Warmness began to spread in her hand, removing her stiff posture, as Anika slipped her hand into Mal's.

Mal collected her energy to moved her feet as she dashed towards Dylan, Anika fast behind her tracks. Dylan made a quick motion to guide them to the house.

"Pack your bags," He instructed to Mal, flashing a curious glance at Anika but shook his head as he left them, heading to the driveway.

Mal ushered Anika inside, following her inside, closing the door. Inside, Mal could see Janet muttering under her breath, frantically shoving her clothes and a few sealed bags of food. Mal told Anika to follow, as she went up the stairs, heading to her room. Opening the closet, Mal brought out her navy blue backpack as Anika helped sorted Mal's clothes to bring. They worked in silence, picking proper attires, water bottles from the mini-fridge, and some running shoes.

Mal looked up at her with a slight frown. "Aren't you going to pack your stuffs?" She asked, as Anika shook her head.

"I'll change when we get to the City," She replied in a low voice, then turned around closing the closet. "Is that all you need?"

Mal sighed heavily, giving a quick nod as she swing the backpack as it sits comfortably on her shoulders. The City. Mal suddenly felt nervous. She heard small conversation between Dylan and Janet, barely a month ago, about possibly moving to the City if anything went wrong. It later grew into a conflict when Alistair strongly refused...

A shout came from outside, jolting back to reality. Mal herded to the door, as Anika lead the way down the stairs. The house was empty which seem strange to Mal. For her it was always her home. She took a last glance at the room, before heading outside to the driveway. She saw Dylan's truck already parked outside, with its engine on, waiting. Mal gripped tightly on her shoulder straps, casting Anika a worried look, realizing she was still in the front steps of the house.

"Anika..." She began.

Anika pursed her lips, then slowly drew a sad smile. "I'll meet you guys there," She said. "I promised."

Mal said nothing else but managed to exchange farewells as she bounded towards the truck. Pulling the handle of the car, Mal hopped in, settled comfortably on the seat before shut the door with a firm _thump_.

As Dylan pulled out from the driveway to the dirt road, Mal glanced at the window to her left, witnessing a mass of smoke coming out from the woods. Winter bare trees toppled down. Then another.

Mal wondered about the smoke and their sudden evacuation or the contamination. The City. Which they are now headed, serves all but one purpose.

Whatever it is, there's more danger coming to their way.

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><p><strong>Hello guys, I have gotten this idea from a friend of mines and some fanfics at here which lead to this inspiration. I have this story for a while and still forming the plot. This is a bit dystopianapocalyptic genre mixed with suspense and romance. It may have some dark and some unsuitable contents for others but it's not that often.**

**I originally planned this story as a tragedy/hurt but a look into a few chapters into the story made me realized it's more of a dystopian society with a hint of romance. I haven't decide the multiple pairings in this story, but there will be a definitely ScoFra throughout the story.**

**I'm not sure how this will go but some reviews, ideas, comments will be very helpful.**

**So far it may seem the plot is slow and long, but it will get better starting around Chapter Three or Four. And yes, the British Isles and other characters would also appear later in the story, about in chapter two or maybe three.**

**As the story progress further, there will be multiple point of view of the characters, I think once I type up around chapter five the spotlight would be shifted to others. But they will come back much later.**

**Hope you enjoy the first chapter!**

****Disclaimer: Hetalia characters are rightful to their owner.****


	2. Chapter 2

**The next chapter guys! I'm starting like the progress of the story so far and decided to published the rest of it on here. Please rate, review and comment here, that would be greatly appreciated. Also if you have any questions or ideas, please post that as well. I want to reach out to the readers and wanted to know what you like or dislike.**

**That's probably it for the author's note. Enjoy the second chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia and the characters belong to their rightful owners.**

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><p><em>Ten Years Later...<em>

A loud roaring engine pounded in her head, furrowing her brows together with mild annoyance. It went on for several hours making her last few hours of sleep completely miserable.

Astrid grumbled angrily as she flung her blanket, landing on the lampshade. She rolled out of her bed, and marched towards her window, drawing it up. The sun blinded her for a moment as her eyes adjust to the light, she managed to spot Mal riding her old Honda motorcycle around the dirt road. _At least it was stylish enough,_ Astrid thought mildly. Otherwise she might had long discarded that piece of junk and replace it with a new one. She doubt that Mal would agree. Faintly, she could hear the radio on outside the drive, mentioning about the Selection process and how this year's going to be different, according to Dr. Køhler.

Luckily, her phone rang, playing some kind of weird song, until she realizes it was her brother, Gérald. She walked over to her dressing table, picking up her phone to answer it.

"Salut, is someone bothering you?" Astrid sighed, rubbing her temples, falling back to her bed.

Of course there's a problem. A major one." Gérald answered, there's strained in his tone.

Astrid groaned, laying her hand on her forehead. She knew him long enough to understand his behavior. Something's wrong.

"Seriously what's wrong mon frère?"

"I'm worried about the Selection. What if we got lost as we don't get chosen? What if we got lost or maybe even late?"

"Oh please, it's just a couple houses away. We can just walk there. If you want, I can bring you a baby leash so that you can't get lost." Astrid offered, jokingly. She couldn't help but to covered her mouth as she snickered softly.

"Let's just forget that I just heard that, d'accord?" Gérald said right after a brief pause.

Astrid laughed unable to hold back her snickering. The moment she heard herself laugh, she laughed even harder. She could imagine herself, her face flushed red and Guernsey having his phone against his ear, listening to her laughing her head off.

"So yeah, I'm going to hang up now," Gérald said in a quiet voice, barely even a whisper.

"I still love ya, you know that, right?" Astrid wiped her tears away, as her laughter died down slowly.

"Yeah whatever."

A click sounded as it ended their conversation.

Astrid stared at her phone, looking at its blank screen. She may have overreacted during their talk, which she usually does but Gérald's more sensitive when he's nervous or worried about something. She'll think of something to cheer her brother up a bit at the meeting. Glancing back at the window, she watched Mal had finish her morning ride of her motorcycle, pulling it in front of the house, carrying her helmet with such confidence that she felt a twinge of jealously. She had no doubt that Mal would be first pick, a perfect candidate for Dr. Køhler's team.

Pulling out her phone again, she quickly dialed to a friend of hers, hoping he would reply. They haven't really talk much together recently, but if they do, their conversation would be a wildfire. Although they had their differences and some arguments ages ago, a smile widened from her mouth, as she pressed the last digit of the number as the caller ID showed it was Francis.

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><p>"So, do you go to that restaurant often?"<p>

"Non,"

"Oh, okay."

_This is going so well. _Astrid bit her lips as their silences pressed on to an unbearable level. Well there's some minor difficulties, she thought. Instead their conversation is like wet firewood. Much of it goes in a simple cycle. Do you go there or like that place? Either the answer is no or yes. A few shrugs here and there. Then a polite laugh would kindly follow to ease the conversation. They are having so much fun.

Astrid could tell Francis was a bit nervous, thinking of something to talk about. He did actually attempt at it, but the respond to it was usually a quick nod or two. Then a sniff or a cough from France and she will add a weak chuckle to clash with their symphony. _  
><em>

"About the meeting," Francis finally break their silence. "Is this your first time?"

Astrid glanced up at him, tugging her plaid scarf snug and tight around her neck. She shook her head no.

"Non, well in a smaller scale. It's usually with Mal Gérald, and me. Along with other of smaller island in the British Isles. But not in the actual world meeting with all these bigger nations." She replied, simply. Francis nodded with understanding.

"Ah, I see. How's Gérald'? I haven't seen your brother around..." The older nation paused, pondering. "Well it's been forever since the last time I met him," He finished quickly.

"He's a bit nervous about the world meeting. You know how sensitive he is." She replied with a smile, chuckling lightly.

He raised his brows at her.

"Ah bon?" Francis suddenly aware of their conversation. Astrid wanted to slap herself for blurting out. She hated to tell others about her family, especially Guernsey's strengths and weaknesses. It's one of her pet peeves. She remembered Alistair had told her about her natural instinct in protectiveness. But it could be also her weakness, he had said to her. Astrid wondered what's Gérald's actual strengths are. He seem soft and kind to others, maybe that was it. Or is it something else?

Her brief moment of pause cause Francis worried even further.

"Jere, maybe it takes getting used to. Being in the large scale meetings would be an ease if you attend it several times." Francis switched his subject, knowing that Astrid had gone a bit silent. A touchy subject. It might be the trite advice, but he had to be careful with his words when he's around her.

But she simply pressed a plain smile at the older nation.

"I'll remember your advice," The younger nation said with acknowledgment. She blinked at the other nation, waiting for his response, her steady brown eyes look strong and fierce. He glanced back at Astrid, flashing back to his memories. He remember seeing her as a child as well as her brother, visiting her daily and stopped when his land is taken from the brutal force of the Vikings. He was afraid that time, afraid that she would soon forget him. He felt guilty for being afraid, he should have step in, but that would a sacrifice. But yet they had endured and live.

Now, she is standing in front of him, still waiting. He had forgotten how much she's grown. He's proud of her, but doubt came over him. He's still afraid. A coward. Like he always been.

_You're always weak._

He admitted it. He's always weak.

But he responded, watching her eyes widened with fear.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

Salut- hello

Mon frère - my brother

Non - no

D'accord - okay

Ah bon - oh really?

Just a minor details and some background for this chapter.

1) Even though Jersey and Guernsey are part of the British Isles or better known as the Channel Islands, they have English and French as their main languages. Jersey's relations with France is strong since many of the trades and politics are shared among these two.

2) The Vikings had took most of the Channel Islands, including Jersey and Guernsey, during the 9th century, which also explains its ending "ey" which translates to island in Old Norse. Later the Channel Islands was taken by King Philip II Augustus of France after beating England to it, in the 1200s. Just around 50 years later, France and England made an agreement known as the Treaty of Paris, which states that France will give up their claim to the Channel Islands and England would withdraw their claim over Normandy. Kinda like a trade, France now has Normandy while England had the Channel Islands. But the Channel Islands didn't really "get along" with England.

3) Jersey's relations with Guernsey is strong as they signed an agreement stating that they would shared their assets and have the same income, along with Isle of Man. The three states or known as the Crown dependencies who shared a mutual agreement with each other and are self-governed countries. Although they are in the British Isles, they aren't a member to Commonwealth and European Union. That's why I wrote about Jersey mention about meeting Isle of Man and Guernsey in a "smaller scale" version rather than the world meeting or "large scale" to France.

That's a little background info, hope this will help you understand better. ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Just as I promised, other Hetalia characters will appear in this chapter, even the ones that are briefly mention in the first two chapter. Yes, that means Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and Northern Ireland would appear.**

**I wanted to put them on this chapter for various of reasons, you can see why in later chapters. They are kinda important for the plot. Thank you guys, for reading and favoring this story, I really appreciate it. Please also favorite, review, and add this story.**

**Enjoy reading the third chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters belong to their rightful owners.**

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><p>They walked in silence again.<p>

Astrid wasn't sure if she whether or not if she could say something to empty the open space between them. All she could do is walked alongside him, trying to match his long stride. In the end, she had to jogged to catch up with the older nation. Astrid huffed with exhaustion, her knees ready to buckle under soreness until Francis stopped his tracks and glanced back at her. Luckily for her quick reflexes, she was able to avoid the collision. She took a moment to familiar herself with her surroundings. Large trees, tall bushes creating a perfect spot to sit down and relax from the beating sun.

A instant pain suddenly dwells deep in her heart as her skin felt cold with sweat. A vague memory sets her to the past, playing games with Malene and Gérald. They were happy and so innocent, the songs that they sing and dance to. It's the bond that they shared and treasured, but somehow it changed. Maybe they can do that again. Someday.

But she can't, they never will. Turning to fifteen would meant becoming an responsible adult. They would look for skills of leadership, smart, and brave candidates for the Selection.

"Are you going in?"

"Oh, sorry," Astrid turned her head around, seeing Francis already stepped inside the building, opening the door for her. Astrid instantly blushed for her little daydream and hurried inside. As she head inside, she make a quick glance at Francis, spotting a distant and cloudy look in his eyes. His expression changes when he turned and smiled at her.

Astrid blinked with confusion but didn't stop and ask, instead she went past him, following the other nations to the meeting room. She lowered her head, looking at her feet as she walked past the other nations, hopeful that she won't be noticed. She was confident that Francis was behind her when she heard her name being called, she turned and faced the source of the voice.

The boy, wearing a plain white shirt with brown khakis, came running towards her. She didn't recognized the boy until he was only a few feet away, his cheesy grin was very familiar to her. Her heart lurched with fear as her brother kept speeding down the hallway.

"S'il tu plaît...non." She groaned, bracing herself for the impact. The bear hug almost knocked her to her knees, she swore she could hear one of her ribs cracked. Breathing hard, she tried to squirm away from her brother's embrace.

Letting out a faint chuckle, she pushed away from him with a tired smile, but soon wavered as her brother glanced around nervously. She slapped herself mentally, forgetting that childishness is forbidden during the conference session. Luckily, there's no one around paying attention to them.

"I guess you found your way-"

Gérald tugged her arm, interrupting her, dragging her further down the hallway and into the meeting room. She was almost as surprised that the other nations idling at the hallway didn't bare to take notice or if they are too busy chattering with their fellow nations. She was even surprised to see the conference room was crowded, and yet more people poured in. The twins had to move out of the way to avoid being trampled. She raised her brow at her brother, a silent glare. Gérald nodded with understanding.

"We'll split up, I guess," Gérald formed out a plan, after his eyes lighted up with and idea.

Before she could protest about the idea being completely a waste of time, he slipped into the crowd, weaving through around the room. With that, she's by herself.

Astrid sighed to herself as she began to search for her relatives. She scanned around the room, hoping to find a glimpse of any maroon colored hair under the wave of blondes and brunettes. _Alistair might be easy to find,_ She thought. _Who else's hair is also red? _

She pushed her way in further into the room, glancing at couple of nations she recognized. Antonio, as usual, cheery and loud as usual, who's sitting next to a quite fellow with a darker shade of hair than the Spaniard's. She saw it interesting as the man wore his hair into a plain ponytail. He's like Antonio, she observed, he has the same eyes, green but a little darker and more bolder, he has a smaller frame and thin brows and his eyes furrowed with concentration as he scribbled something furiously on a piece of paper, nodding here and there. It took her a moment to noticed that the man was noting the Antonio's words.

Then there's Ivan and his fellow compadres, sitting in the far side of the room, near the corner. It's weird that there's a few empty seats around Ivan, as she went on observing. Next to him was Raivis, she recalled as she recognized his shy look and messy blonde hair, constantly darting his blue eyes around as if he's waiting for someone. The other two, she had forgotten their names. She felt a pang of guilt for them and decided to sit with them, hoping to spark a conversation. They seem nice enough. Ivan seem to noticed her presence and smiled at her, grinning jovially. She politely returned favor and walked towards the group.

"Hey, Jere. Over here," A crisp tenor voice called to her as Astrid whipped her head up, stopping in mid-tracks. Alistair Kirkland was waving her over, the only one standing, scouting for his family, while the rest of the Kirkland's are already sitting on the chair. Finally someone she know of. With a quick glance behind her, she spotted Ivan's smile soon fade, sadness filled his soft violet eyes. She twisted her sleeves, nervously, but she turned around to joined in with Alistair.

"Désolé," Jersey muttered to the Scot, in a hush voice after she found a chair at the corner and brought it over near her relatives, exchanging quiet hellos to Dylan and Arthur, which she sat behind them since there's not enough room. Astrid could hear a snicker behind her back, it was Malene's. Alistair drew a kind smile at her. _  
><em>

"It's all right, you're not the only one who's late." He replied lightheartedly at her before taking his seat. Taking his word seriously instead, Astrid checked the room again, most of the seats are filled except for one. She squinted her eyes at the strange group. There's a boy with a slender built body wearing a double hairpin on the side of his hair. He seem rather focused on doing some paperwork, Astrid assumed it was, while the other two man talking excitedly, something about the Selection. The serious one seem to talk in a monotone, which she finds it quite amusing.

"That's the Nordics," She heard Malene whispered into her ears. Astrid nodded with acknowledgment, glancing back at Mal. "Sitting in the middle, that's Governor Lukas. The other two is General Oxenstierna and Director Väinämöinen. Oh, and I'm guessing Dr. Køhler isn't here yet, that's explains the empty seat."

"I hope I get chosen to be on their team." She whispered back, as hope swells inside. Almost everyone wants to take part of their team. Currently they are on the verge of a breakthrough, a cure for the disease, arcauterosis or better known as burning fever. **  
><strong>

Mal nodded, leaning forward, a knowing smile filled her entire face.

"Hej!" A wild blond hair man stride into the room, in such dramatic manner. "Sorry, I'm late. I'm sure I won't waste anyone's time for my delay." He stopped where Governor Lukas who apparently annoyed by the Dane's appearances and began to drank her coffee, which he tightened his jaws, briefly dipping his head, an apology.

"Dr. Køhler, please sit down." Governor Lukas frowned, not casting a single glance at him. Dr. Køhler nodded swiftly, placing himself on the empty seat, clearing his throat as he gazed around the conference room, sternly.

"Shall we begin?" Governor Lukas clasped his hand together, a twitch of his lips reveal a different meaning. Astrid just hope she wouldn't dread this conference.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_French_

S'il tu plaît - please

Désolé - sorry

_Danish_

Hej - hey or hello


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks again for the follows and the support guys! Sorry for the long update since this chapter is longer than expected, but I put a lot of thought and process to this chapter and plus school is getting vigorous. **

**Anyways enjoy reading the 4th chapter!**

* * *

><p>The conference had dragged on endlessly. They started to argue again, raising their voices that's high enough to shatter the windows. The worst possible scenario, the coffee ran out. And yet the coffee did ran out. Thirsty and hungry, Alistair shifted his collar uncomfortably, wiping his sweat with a cool towel. Even the AC wasn't working properly, it would come on and off after a while. Sighing, he glanced around the room, watching the other nations went on bickering. The Nordics, mostly Governor Lukas' bright idea to plan to bring the nations together, a union. As he had mention, "_a high time to become more acceptable to other nations_." Of course, Dr. Køhler objected, saying sticking to the traditions wouldn't hurt.

Alistair scratched his head, a habit of his, whenever he felt bored. Scanning around the room, his eyes set on the wavy-haired man silently gazing down at his pen, his eyes seem to be distant and tired. He leaned forward as his heart lurched with worry. He frowned slightly, it's not normal for Francis to be this quiet at the meeting. Usually he argues with other nations, especially Arthur. He quickly glanced around the room, hoping if someone else also noticed the change. He spotted Basch casting a few worried glances at the French, mumbling under his breath. His eyes then flickered towards Alistair then back to Francis and shrugged his shoulders.

Alistair's sudden alertness had made Arthur break away from the heated debate, tilting his head at his older brother, a quizzically look appeared in his eyes.

"I'm fine," He quickly made an excuse, pressing a weak smile, but his voice gave away his meaning.

"You don't seem like it," Arthur said, glancing at him with a worried look. He eyed Alistair carefully, afraid that he might snapped at him. He even readied himself for the offensive insult, which he usually does. But it never came.

Arthur blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming, as Alistair completely fell silent.

"Haven't you noticed something's a bit off?" Alistair asked him, shaking his head. His movement of his eyes, caught Arthur's attention, as he followed the line of sight and fell across Francis. Arthur furrowed his brows with puzzlement, staring, as if it's a stranger to him. _Francis...he would never be this quiet during any meeting. _Arthur thought, carefully. Even under the deafening noise of the heated debate, he could still hear the sounds of the ticking from the clock, moving its second hand in a simple pattern. Arthur slowly returned his gaze to his older brother, looking for any other advice or possible explanation. He knew that his brother had known Francis a long time and understands him like pages in the book. Of all the foolish things that his brother had done in the past, Arthur hated to admit, Alistair was wisest.

"I'm going to talk to him."

It was his response.

Arthur nearly slide off his chair with mild surprise, plus the fact that Alistair's sudden movement had scared him a bit. Gazing upwards, he frowned at him. He noticed several others had taken noticed the stirring. Relief came over Arthur as the other nations didn't take notice but went on like nothing happened. Dylan shifted his position to get a closer view of the situation, sternly glancing over with his calm expression.

"It's Francis," Arthur explains instead, casting a side look to Alistair, hoping Dylan might understand. Whatever it is going on between Alistair and Francis, they have to work it by themselves.

Dylan mouthed something to him, his eyes casually shifted to a concern look. Arthur felt a mild annoyance as he had to lean forward to hear the actual words. Dylan frowns and tries again. This time, Arthur could make out words judging by the way Dylan moved his mouth.

_"Is...something...at my house...a serious conversation...with Francis."_

Arthur was caught off guard about the strangeness descending between his two brothers. Usually Dylan was more open-minded, maybe a little self-reserved, but never so secretive. He noticed Dylan's eye shifted back to Alistair, avoiding the glare from him. The way he squirmed in his seat, his fingers fidgeted, tapping on the table and the complimentary pen that Alfred Jones had kindly shared to others for the meeting. _Dylan hiding something. _Arthur thought, rubbing his chin, thinking.

He gave Dylan a last worried look before hearing the sound of the familiar obnoxious voice ended the meeting for a short break. _About time. _Arthur sighed, pushing off from his chair, deciding to forget about the oddness. But something caught the his eyes, pausing a moment to gain a better look at it. Alistair had made his move, as he went around the room, inching his way to Francis. A hesitation, his left hand hover his black gloved hand as wanted to remove but brush the action away. A thin shaped line drew across Alistair's soft lips as he stood there, a few feet away from Francis whom still sat on the cushioned gray chair.

"Yo, Arthur. Aren't you going to join us for lunch?"

Arthur turned his head, finding the source of the voice. He quickly nodded his head, barely hearing Alfred's words.

"Sure." A reply came from him.

Alfred briefly gave him a look, but shrugged happily.

"That's cool, man. I'll save you some food," Alfred smiled at Arthur before backing away to the hallway.

Arthur peered around the room, trying to see if there's any one left. Most of them had rushed to the hallway, leaving only Francis and Alistair alone in the room. He was aware that Francis was staring at him but it wasn't a smile later that Arthur realizes it was just a blank stare. His mind was somewhere else. And Alistair-just standing there like a stone statue, still and listless, nothing but his breathing.

Grabbing his jacket from the coat hanger, Arthur left the room, shaking his head with mixed feelings, closing the door. As the last one to leave, Arthur finds himself most of the food was gone, the trays are almost down to its last crumbs. Arthur shrugged casually, as he grabbed a paper plate and a plastic spork from the booth and start to scavenge any possible crumbs or bites left of the food. Scrambled eggs with Frankfurt sausage, mini burgers with colored toothpicks, teaspoon of fried rice, medium-rare steak, and what it may seem a boiled egg or some sort. Finding what he needed, Arthur walked slowly, hoping to hunt for a perfect spot to sit or stand to eat.

"Sasana!"

Arthur winced, nearly dropping his plateful of food to the ground. He dreaded the name, knowing the voice belongs to. He blinked, looking up to face her.

"Um, good to see you Janet..." Arthur said faintly.

Janet glowered at him with her dark emerald eyes, holding a soup ladle which dripped with her potato soup.

"Do you want some soup or not?" Her slight warm Irish accent began to unfold after the piercing call of his name.

"Um, well.."

Before he could respond, Janet had dump a ladleful of her soup in the biodegradable bowl.

Janet leaned forward closer to Arthur. He could see that she's trying hard to hide her accent. "How was it so far? Did they mentioned about their candidates?"

Blocking her words, Arthur took a chance to inspect his soup, trying to conjure up something to say. It was creamy looking soup with chunks of baking potatoes, a hint of some shredded cheese and chives. He took a spoonful of the soup, carefully blowing it before taking a sip. It taste somewhat smooth, feeling the slightly spiced potatoes as he swallowed it.

"No, they haven't. Govenor Lukas and Dr. Køhler was head to head to each other. Køhler should be careful with his words, who knows what Lukas would do." Arthur replied back.

"Sasana, I'm sure they will resolve it soon enough. From what it seems, I heard Dr. Køhler is overpowering the medical field. There's something about him, selecting ten candidates this year, the most of any year." Janet whispered softly to Arthur, revealing a large smile.

Arthur half-choked on his second spoon of his soup. Spluttering, he wiped away the spilled contents dripping down to his chin.

"Wait, ten?"

Janet nodded her head, making a point. She half sighed, shaking her head. "Hope he doesn't manage to get his iron hands with the project we are working on. If it does, then it's over for us. Our team belongs to Govenor Lukas's hands." She said, slightly flustered.

Arthur set down his spoon, glowering at Janet. "He can't." He grumbled.

"He can, if Lukas allows him to."

Arthur sighed, flashing a look across the room, where Governor Lukas is idling with the younger nations. His heart gripped with mild hatred as the Governor stood there smiling warmly, telling something to them. Obviously campaigning his team position, choosing the stronger candidates and leaving the weaker ones to the others.

He spotted Ivan and his team, or sort of. It has been years, ten years at least, when Ivan chose his candidates, Natalia Arlovskaya, Katyusha Braginskaya, Raivis Galante, along with the other two which names had been deleted and cleared by Governor Lukas, due to the fact that they had gotten arcauterosis. By deleted and cleared, it was an exile, cast into the wilderness, god knows what's there, nothing but useless things. Ivan's team used to be in the lead, finally found a cure for the disease, saving hundreds of lives. Ivan was crowned as a Governor and his team was promoted to a higher rank. But hope soon faded as the disease spread rapidly and mutated themselves and the antidote that Ivan's team had spend their valuable time researching, testing, and making all lay to waste. It wasn't a couple years later that the Dr. Køhler brought a promising hope again, claiming that he found a lead.

Arthur felt anger boiled inside of him, as he remembered the strange occurrence during the conference. Dylan's secretiveness, Alistair's lack of words, Janet's worriedness, Francis' quietness. All that mixed with his boiling hatred with Governor and this whole system and the so called Selection process. And the names being cleared once they caught the disease. Was there anyone want to hide from him? Are they hiding something, afraid to let Arthur and even the others from knowing too much?

He faced Janet with a glint of challenge in his eyes. He wanted to know, even though it wasn't the answer. Before he could speak, the door behind him swing open. Almost all the chatter and the laughter had came to a halt, as eyes turned to the opened door. Francis walked out the door, lowering his head, ignoring the others' stares and whispers, as he raced out the door outside. Alistair followed behind, wide eyes with panic. He gazed at Arthur for a brief moment before continuing chasing Francis. Seconds later, Dylan rushed out as well, shoving his half-eaten plate to Alfred, looking just as surprised and dazed as the others.

* * *

><p>"Francis, wait! Please wait," Alistair called out, stumbling as he followed, even though Francis pretended he haven't heard him but walked faster, heading to the sidewalk.<p>

He could see Francis' shoulders cringed at his name being hollered but made no sign to stop. Alistair tried again, shouting his name. Francis soon paused walking, standing in front of the old gnarled tree and turned, facing him.

"I told you to stop following me," Francis rasped, clearly out of breath. His eyes pleading him. Alistair shook his head, stopping in front of Francis, shaking slightly.

"I don't understand why you turned your back to me," Alistair whispered.

Francis took a step back, his hand planted on the gnarled tree as support. "Non, **_you_**don't understand." Francis whimpered, glancing back at the tree, avoiding confrontation. Alistair blinked back, processing his words.

"I-I-don't want to hurt you,"

Alistair leaned forward glancing worriedly at Francis.

"You're not hurting me, or anyone,"

Francis turned his gaze back to Alistair, searching at his eyes. Alistair smiled reassuringly, as he took a step forward. Francis stiffed a gasp, brushing away his hair as he straightened up. "I know, but..."

Alistair felt the need to embrace him, murmuring words of comfort, wanting to reassure him. But his eyes. It's distant, filled with terror and fear. H_ow could Francis be so fragile? _Alistair bit his lips, hard, hating the fact that he can't even comfort. He slowly walked forward, wincing with pain as Francis huddled the tree, looking pained as ever, shivering from the cold. Sweat came down from his forehead.

_The cold? _Alistair froze at the words, noticing there's isn't a single cold breeze dancing around. In fact, it wasn't even that cold. Alistair take a ragged breath, storming towards Francis, placing his back of his hand on his damp forehead. It was hot and burning under the touch, boiling with fever to the point that Alistair withdrew his hand, shakily. Glancing down at his wrists, Alistair noticed that there's small red splotch, that's almost noticed if you haven't look closely enough, beginning to form. It wouldn't be long when it's visible and large. "Francis..."

Francis let out a pained cry, sobbing hysterically. He backed up even though his back already planted to the tree. He stiffed a choked gasp, as he shook his head at Alistair, afraid. Afraid that's he's going to tell them. To the Governor. And having his name being cleared.

"I don't want to be cleared..." Francis whimpered, pleading, as he dropped to his knees. Alistair reached towards him, trying to hold him up, but Francis fell limp under his arms. "P-please, Alistair," Francis coughed, kicking at the ground. "Écosse, don't t-tell th-em."

Alistair furrowed his brows when Francis uttered his name, feeling torn in pieces. If he haven't told the Governor about Francis, he will be punished severely for treason. His team would be punished as well. Arthur, Dylan, Janet, and Aaron-their names would be clear as well. He couldn't do that to them, he could never let anyone come hurt them. But Francis, they shared friendship together or used to. But he couldn't see him being cleared and gone forever in his life. Seeing him, broken inside, nothing left but to hope that Alistair would save him.

He reached his slender fingers to tilt Francis' chin so he could face him completely. His thumb brush along the sides of Francis' jawbones, feeling the smooth and tenderness of it, brushing away his tears. He yearned to just lean forward and tell him that everything will be all right, and he will protect him. But his mind was screaming at him to stop, filling him with rational thoughts. It didn't took long for Alistair to make a decision.

Alistair helped Francis stand up from the ground, supporting him in case if Francis went limp with weakness.

"Run," He whispers into Francis.

Francis gathered his strength to looked up at him, looking fragile, as Alistair released his hold on him. Francis took a couple steps back, stumbling over the dead trunk, before he slipped to the edge of the woods. And then he was gone.

Alistair couldn't bring himself to turn away. His eyes was longing and thankful. His blonde hair danced around his shoulders as Francis made his run-an escape. A fugitive. He just hope he have something good to tell Governor Lukas about the Francis' disappearance and claimed that he's dead. Lukas will believe him and call of the search and have his name cleared.

"Alistair, is that Francis?" A calm and chilling came behind him. Alistair turned quickly, feeling a churn in his stomach. He felt a tight clench in his heart, fearing that he was caught. Dylan leaned against the building, casually placing his thumb over the belt loop of his jeans. White spots began to danced around Alistair's vision, as he panicked. How long has Dylan watched? The whole scene? And how he had save Francis?

He tried to speak, but Dylan raise his hand to block him off.

"That's a daring move, how heroic." Dylan commented, his tone was cruel to Alistair's ears, but yet Dylan's face remains complete neutral and empty, like a vessel. It was hard to determine what his brother was thinking in his mind, hopefully he's the same side as him.

"I did what I could," Alistair replied, out of breath, as he had run a marathon. He blinked his eyes, chasing away the white dancing spots that appeared in his vision. His head throbbed painfully, wincing against the intense heat from the sun. He wiped his forehead with his sleeves, feeling dizzy afterwards. The white spots had faded but it was replaced with throbbing darkness closing in his eyes.

He felt he had heard something, as Dylan unhitched himself from the wall running towards him, concern in his eyes.

Alistair opened his mouth the speak, but no sound came out. He tried to move towards Dylan, but his legs was completely lead-like. Time seem to slow down as he slumped to the ground, the darkness that linger in the edge of the vision is now filling his sight. A nudge on his shoulders, shaking him to wake up, but it was all inaudible to him. With a slow exhale of his breath, he soon collapse, giving up as the darkness overtakes him.

* * *

><p><strong>I know most people dislike cliff-hangers but it's important for the plot to keep moving. I would say this as a turning-point. For a little sneak peak, Francis (France) would most definitely be back much later in the story, I promised. Likewise the upcoming few chapters will open up to other characters that's briefly mention in the previous chapters and ones that haven't been mention as well. (Hint: Some of the German-speaking countries will show up very soon) Oh, there will be more of Governor Lukas and his team. ^^<strong>

**Translation:**

_Irish_

Sasana- England

_French_

Écosse - Scotland


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello dearies, back again from a short little break. I'm glad that people are reading this story and the pm's that inspire me to keep writing. Thank you for the support. Like I promised in the previous there will some characters including Lichtenstein and Switzerland, as well briefly mentioned that will appeared in the next chapter.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

><p>Mal couldn't stand still. She flexed her wrists, a sign of excitement. After the conference ended an hour ago, the candidates were sent to the auditorium, anxiously waited if they are selected or not. She tilted her head over the crowd, catching a glimpse at the stage. Dr. Køhler was pacing around the stage, his face remained neutral as he sweep his gaze at the candidates. He stopped his gaze at her, a second too much. Mal straightened her back, trying to look confident. Relief washed over her as he turned around and seated comfortably at the lounge.<p>

Taking her gaze away from the stage, she looked for any familiar faces around the auditorium. She lingered at the short young man with choppy blond hair in a chin-length bob cut and dark colored green eyes. He wore a white faded shirt, brown trousers. He look quite young despite the scowl that appears in his face. Mal remembered that he was at the conference room before, catching a side glimpse at Alistair. From the looks of it, Mal figured that the boy was Bach, a candidate that hadn't been selected the previous year. It might be his last, since he's almost nineteen.

Standing right next to him was a girl, Eva, Mal recalled, was much younger than him, wearing the same outfit as the man. She has a blonde hair, in a chin-length bob cut like the boy, adjusting her dark green messenger bag on her shoulders. Eva blinked shyly as she noticed that Mal was looking over. before turning to Bach, murmuring something to him. Seconds later, Eva bounded towards them, grinning cheerfully.

"Hi, I'm Erika." The girl squeaked, softly.

"I'm Malene. But people call me Mal, instead." Mal smiled warmly at her.

"That's a nice name," Eva replied. "You could call me Eva, if you want to."

Astrid, suddenly, was standing besides her as she rolled up her blue cuffs, dusting her long black coat wearing a red shirt underneath. She had her hair fixed into a simple ponytail, looking sincere and confident, which she usually is. Curiously to see the newcomer, Astrid raised a single brow, questioning.

"Oh, this is Astrid. A friend of mines," Mal quickly introduced to Eva as they both exchanged greetings.

In a distant, Mal observed, Natalia, a solemn faced with long, straight blonde hair, and dark blue eyes was engaging a conversation with Gérald, who look slightly surprised then fear.

She quickly nudged Astrid, jerking her head towards them. "What's she doing here?" Astrid said, sounding astonished. Mal felt her mouth went dry.

"Campaigning." She feared those words. "They are competing against Dr. Køhler." She grew hesitant, as she continued to watch Natalia gave Gérald a encouraging nod and a rare smile of hers, before the woman went back to the stage, joining where Ivan and his team was seated.

"That's a good thing, right? That means Ivan's team is recovering from their lost." Eva said, hope had filled her eyes.

Mal heard Astrid muttered something under her breath. But before she could say anything, the conversation had died down in the auditorium.

She focused her attention at the stage, brimming with tension. In the stage, she saw Dr. Køhler, leaning back at his lounge his leg cross over. Moving along the stage, she fell across a much larger group, there was Dr. Abel, the other three she didn't recognize (there's one with hair white as pearl) and the young woman next to him. She might be his sister, Emma, the only one standing, propped her arms against the lounge, talking to a man with a short straight, straw blond hair and green almond-shaped eyes, looking almost feminine and soft. But the intense energy in his eyes says otherwise. It took Mal a moment to realized that this was Director Feliks, the one who hosted the Selection process and worked along with Governor Lukas' team. And now he's also part of Dr. Abel's team?

Governor Lukas had made his way to the stage, standing behind the podium, awarding a mock grin, before beginning his opening speech.

"As usual, we have decided to stick to our yearly tradition of the Selection process. Young, bright, and brave candidates will be chosen over for their determination, leadership skills, and teamwork. These are the values we treasured the most, to lead our country a better place, and to defeat this cunning disease which had taken innocent lives for over a decade." Governor Lukas recited, a slight pause, then went on.

"Without further ado, I'm very pleased to announce the Director to come forward and place your ballots on the bowl." He gestured to the clear oval shaped bowl before he moved away from the podium and moved towards the bowl.

One by one, the Directors left their comfortable lounge and herded towards the bowl, casting their ballots, their votes, into it. Biting her lips, she watched Director Feliks slowly stepped in front of the bowl, his hand hesitant, weighing the piece of paper, before he gently toss the ballot in. Only one? Mal froze, seeing that the other Directors made several ballots, but Feliks cast one.

Once the Directors had made their choice, Governor Lukas faced the candidates. "Would everyone please step forward when you see your name on the screen in front of you." Almost everyone shifted their eyes at the screen when it flickers to life. Names started to appear in the board, in columns. Mal quickly scanned down the names, catching Astrid, Bach, Eva, and Gérald's names in the list, until she finally found hers, near the "R" column. She made it in.

She ignored the groans and the disappointing twinge of the other candidates as they haven't appeared on the list. She beamed happily, as she went into hugged Astrid and gave Eva a bright smile. But this isn't a time to be celebratory, yet. There's another part. It's when the Directors select their candidates to be part of their team. As the non-selected candidates was ushered out of the auditorium, Mal made a quick count of who's left. Only fifteen are left.

Governor Lukas cleared his throat before he began speaking. "As you know, there are a few of you left in this room. And congratulation for making this far. For the third and final phase, the Directors will choose, mostly of their team's ballot, and become part of the team, which includes: Medical, Military, and Technology. Please follow Director Feliks to your dormitories, he will take it from there." He finished, before leaving the stage.

Director Feliks came forward from the stage, escorting the candidates to their rooms.

* * *

><p>"I'll see you at lunch?"<p>

Eva quietly departed from Bach, muttering her goodbyes to him, as the butterflies filled in her stomach as she went down to corridor, alone. They were the last one to enter the dorms. She recalled the information given by Director Feliks, the emblem, will be distributed when the candidates arrived to their dorms, wear them, before heading to lunch. There are three different colors for the emblem: white for Medical, orange for Military, and purple for Technology. Taking a quick look at her dorm pass, Eva read her room number was _433_, printed neatly on the paper. Eva glanced up, skimming through the door with any number that start with _4. _

_410..._

_420..._

_425..._

_430..._

_433..._

Stopping at _433, _Eva closed her hands around the doorknob, then pushing it in slowly. She peaked her head out, surveying the room, before she went inside. In the room, there was two bunk beds, both against the wall in each side of the room. A closer inspection, Eva noticed that the bunk bed on her left was clearly taken, the beds are a mess, as if someone already sat on them. She went towards the bunk bed that's currently not taken and placed her messenger bag on the bed, spotting a neatly folded candidate jacket, a light blue material that's soft under her touch. Eva picked it up, unzipping it before wearing over her shirt. A smile appeared, as Eva glanced down at her jacket, a fresh start for her. No longer a child, but an adult.

Eva turned her head back at the bed, looking around if there's her emblem lying around on her bed. There's no sign of it, expect for her bag.

"I was expecting that you came late,"

Eva seized her bag, shielding it in front of her, as she drew her attention to the person. A girl, a few years old than her, leaning against the doorway with a smirk across her face. Eva instantly felt that she had seen that smirk before, a familiar one.

"Um..." Eva felt her face flushed, unable to think of anything else to say.

The girl's smirk faded, quickly replaced in a silent scowl.

"I prefer to be beckon as Lucille," The girl scowled at Eva, crossing her arms. "Or this room director."

"You look like him." Eva chirped weakly, her shoulders slouching.

Lucille raised her neatly trimmed brows at her. "If you are referring to my dad, then yes. I do look like him," She muttered, stepping inside the room. She strolled across the room, handing a velvet red box to her. "Your emblem,"

Setting her bag aside, Eva eyed at the box before accepting it in her hands.

"Like Francis?" Eva asked, remembering the name, playing the box without thinking.

Lucille regarded Eva, closely, weighing the choices whether if she should answer or not. Her smile grew again, a placid one.

"You must not talk very much," She mused, tossing her blond braid over her shoulders, before she sat down on the bed. "Don't worry, my dad and I don't talk very much when we're together. In fact, I don't talk much to him." She explained, but the hint of her tone said otherwise. Cold and calculating.

Eva stopped playing the box, taking a moment to look at Lucille. She couldn't seem to understand her behavior, but then she remembered Francis never mentioned his friends or anyone about his daughter.

Lucille paused, nudging her shoulder. "You should open it anytime now. Governor Lukas hates waiting."

Eva sighed, not wanting to pry, open the box. Inside was a circular shape emblem, a beautifully designed grid like pattern running across the emblem diagonally. And it's purple. Her heart twisted with anxiety as she rubbed her eyes. _It can't be purple. _She glanced at the emblem again with disbelief. The candidates are sorted based of their best interests and working around with tech stuff isn't Eva's strengths. She lifted her head up to Lucille, hoping to catch the glimpse of her mistake.

Yet, Lucille remained her composure, blinking calmly at Eva. It wasn't until Eva realized that she's waiting for a response.

"I like it," Eva said after a short silence. "Danke schön,"

Lucille scoffed, rolling her eyes, ignoring the flinch from Eva. "Like it or not, it's yours now. You represent the team, in this case, the Tech." She said, gruffly, rising from the bed. Eva couldn't help but noticed her voice sounded like feminine deep. A sharp kind of alto sound, a bit rough on the edges. It was much better sounding than her own voice, soft and soprano pitch. Until recently, Eva noticed her voice slightly change a bit, or was it just her imagination?

"Oh, there are two other roommates, in case you haven't notice," Lucille went on, heading towards the bunk bed, tapping on the side of it, quirking up a smile. "Interesting people,"

Eva straighten up, brimming with curiosity. "Is there a chance to meet them?" She asked Lucille, softly. afraid to see her reaction. More scoffing or maybe an eye roll or two.

But Lucille cast a genuine smile, throwing her head back and laugh. Unlike her dad's laugh, which is short and slightly annoying, Lucille's was more of a melodic sounding. Eva felt herself grew cold. There wasn't a moment where Francis laughed and smile for at least ten years. Ever since the disease came to be, Eva haven't cast a single smile or a laugh, as well. She used to giggle when she lived with Bach, sharing brother to sister moments. Ten years, she had changed, her mind was focused on becoming a candidate, aiding the cause to fight against the disease. Just seeing Lucille laugh makes Eva's stomach tightened with sickness, as laughing was a stranger to her. Was she supposed to laugh along with Lucille?

Lucille died down her laughter, noticing Eva's grim face and sighed. "Of course you will, down at the lunch." She answered, masking her face back to the usual grumpiness that Eva first saw her at the doorway. She rolled up her sleeve, reading the time from her silver watch. "Hmm, I better take you to the dinning hall, the food is half gone. Oh, leave your stuff here. No one's going to steal them." After seeing Eva clutched her messenger bag tightly. Lucille made back to Eva, snatching the purple emblem from her hands. "Better wear this on," She grunted, effortlessly clasping the pin onto Eva's light blue candidate jacket sleeves.

Eva peered down at her right arm, touching the emblem with her fingers, the cold metal nearly send her shivers to her veins. She breathed softly, liking how the purple glinted off the light on the ceiling, boldly shimmered against the light blue. She heard footsteps echoing near to the doorway, jolted up from the bed to follow Lucille. Stepping out of the room, Lucille turned around and gently closed the door behind Eva, locking it with a key.

Lucille glanced back at Eva, as she tossed her key inside her breast pocket. "Don't worry, I got my first day butterflies." She reassured her, after taking note of Eva's troubled expression. "Lighten up a bit, it'll be fine after that."

Eva tilted her head to meet the girl's eyes. Deep clear blue like her father. A question soon arose from Eva's mind.

"Why don't Francis mentioned you before?" She asked, wanting to take back her words. "That he has a daughter?"

To her surprise, Lucille gave a tired smile, combing her blond silky hair while she gaze upwards, at the ceiling. "Oh, he didn't really told you guys that?" She chuckled, amusingly. "Let me set the records straight. It's complicated." She said, her face fell, her eyes grew distant and clouded.

"I guess we don't have much in common."

* * *

><p>Some characters to note ( for those who are confused of the slight name change):<p>

Abel - the Netherlands

Emma - Belgium

Eva Zwingli - Lichtenstein

Lucille Bonnefoy- Monaco


End file.
